A Kiss With A Fist Is Better Than None
by WithoutAWord
Summary: Carla and Peter argue, but despite everything she can't stand the thought of living without him. Uses dialogue from 9th July 2012 episode.


_**A/N**__ This is a one-shot I wrote straight after the episode aired on 9th July 2012, but to be honest I'd forgotten all about it. But anyway, I found it lurking on my computer so I decided to upload it for all you lovely people, despite it being a somewhat depressing reminder. I hated Peter so much after this episode, I'm not going to lie._

Carla stepped into the flat, closing the door behind her. She was relieved to be out of the firing line where Rob was concerned, but judging the way the cigarette smoke filled the living room and Peter's hunched stance she had just walked into another warzone. What was it today? She knew he was stressed over everything with Simon – she got that – but he was being particularly snappy and short-fused. She let out a breath she didn't realise she was holding as she walked further into the flat, shoving up her tough facade; something was telling her she was going to need it tonight.

'I'm really sorry I'm late, I got stuck with our kid giving me small grief.' She placed her handbag on the dining chair, continuing to absentmindedly fiddle with her keys. When she finally tore her eyes away from her bag, she noticed how Peter was still staring blankly ahead, as if she wasn't even there. Great, this was going to be a fun night. She let out an irrepressible sigh, anxious of what further insults he might chuck at her, or whether he would just pretend she wasn't there for the rest of the evening. 'Families, eh? Who'd have them?' She wanted to try and stimulate some sort of mindless conversation to ease the atmosphere.

'Yeah,' Peter finally gave a small glance over his shoulder, but his gaze wasn't direct and it felt as if he couldn't even be bothered to look at her properly; like it wasn't worth his time. His jaw was tensed, and she hadn't seen him looking so angry in a long time. 'Not you that's for sure.' He replaced the cigarette between his lips and took a long drag, hoping to numb the world in which he lived. Carla dropped the keys onto the table beside her, bringing the same hand to the bridge of her nose as she braced herself for the obvious onslaught which she was about to receive. At least they were addressing the elephant in the room, she supposed, although she had a feeling by the end of the conversation she would wish that they had beat around the bush all evening.

'What?' she demanded, hoping to get all his anger out the way, because the sooner he let out all of this pent up frustration the sooner they could get back to normal.

'They're trying to take my kid away from me.' Finally he made eye contact with her, but practically as soon as their eyes met his focused on the floor beside her again. It made her feel unwanted and _dirty_, as if it cause him great discomfort to even look at her. 'In eighteen months that kid's going to be a stranger to me and I come and tell you...' he paused, his lips forming a snarl as the memory, contorted and worsened by his self-pity, flashed before his eyes. '...and it means nothing.' She took a deep breath, trying to keep a cool head and remain unfazed by his rage.

'Peter, I _was_ busy,' she reasoned.

'_Busy_?' He stubbed his cigarette out harshly, and she couldn't help but wonder whether he was imagining it being somebody's head – namely hers – but she pushed that thought aside for the time being. She needed all the composure she could gather if she was going to be able to defend herself tonight. 'Busy? I'm losing the one good thing in my life, but God forbid it's going to get in the way of flogging knickers.' By the end of his sentence his tone was far lower, almost a growl, and the corners of his mouth had turned down further than she thought possible. Her brain partially registered the words he had spoken, but she was more concerned over the way he was talking to her. They'd had arguments before, yes, but he'd never taken the high-ground this far. It was like he was looking down on her, and her defences had now kicked in at full force.

'It wasn't the time or place to discuss it...' she debated, hoping he'd realised how unreasonable he was being. It was so unlike him to be so blinded from the truth, and she hoped it would only be a matter of time before he snapped out of this crazy world he was living in, where everybody was wrong apart from him. She'd made many a mistake in her time, it was true, but this was not something she was prepared to take as her fault. He understood business – he even had one of his own! – so why was he behaving like Underworld was some sort of mediocre hobby?

'When is the right time and place?' She turned her back to him, hoping if she couldn't see his body language then his verbal attack wouldn't hurt her so much and she could focus on fighting her corner. 'You don't give a _stuff_ about my kid!' His last words enraged her, and she flew around in full attack mode. She wasn't going to just lay down and take this, especially when he was making such insensitive comments such as that.

'Oh, you know what? You are _so wrong_!' She had put everything into making it work between her and Simon, and all she had ever got was it thrown back in her face. 'And Peter, I will not take any more lectures today, thank you!' She gave him a small swipe on the arm, barely hard enough for him to feel, but she felt the gesture would show him just how passionate she was about what she was saying. 'I have done my best for you!' Her voice cracked with emotion, but she ignored it and carried on full throttle, lest she appeared weak when she was so eager to stand her ground. 'I have supported you when most women would have just turned their backs! And you know what? You're not the only one that's made sacrifices!' She took another swing at him, this one a little harder, but just hard enough for him to actually feel it. Her sacrifice killed her every day, but she knew that fighting her feelings for Peter still would have probably only caused more heartache. She couldn't think about her sacrifice, because seeing that animal's smug face when he was cleared was just too painful a memory to bring to the surface.

Peter slammed his hands either side of him and hoisted himself up from the sofa, launching himself in Carla's direction. She had turned her back to him again, but she could hear his voice louder in her ear, and her heart rate increased a great deal. She wasn't _scared_ of Peter – she'd never be scared of him – but her body was still involuntarily unsure when it came to confrontation. Before she could even scold herself for feeling so insecure in her lover's presence his venomous words stopped her heart dead, and she felt as if all the wind had been knocked out of her. She suddenly felt weak and faint, because of all the things he could have said, this was probably the most wounding thing he could have chosen.

'You make sacrifices for something that's worthwhile!' She felt a vicelike grip on her upper arm, and before she knew it she had been swivelled round to face him. His neck stuck out so that her whole vision was filled with his enraged face, but she barely had time to wince before he had shoved her backwards away from him as if her touch disgusted him and she stumbled slightly into the dining table as she tried to regain her balance. 'And there is _nothing_ in my life more worthwhile than Simon, right?' She shrugged her jacket back on properly, trying to tidy herself up and pretend that he hadn't done what he had. She still stood by the fact that she didn't feel scared and threatened by him, but in this precise moment she was very close to abandoning that sentiment. '_Nothing_ even comes _close_!' His words were far more painful than his actions, and she stared over his shoulder, unable to look at the hatred in his eyes, as she begged the tears not to fall.

'You include me in that, I suppose?' she asked, her voice not quite as strong as she would have hoped. He quite literally laughed in her face, and he made her feel just that little bit smaller and more worthless than she already regarded herself.

'Right now?' he taunted. He leaned in a bit closer, his expression more sombre. 'What do you think?'

And with that he walked out, leaving her frozen to the spot. When he reached the door he glanced over to her, still standing there unable to summon enough energy to move. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't feel, and her eyes darted from side to side as she tried to pull herself together. Her chest rose and fell with large magnitude and frequency, but despite her deep gulps of air, she couldn't shake the light-headedness which she felt. When she heard the latch go on the door her head followed the noise, as if it had snapped her out of her trance, but her eyes met Peter's as he sauntered out the door and his raging and unforgiving glare knocked everything out of her once more.

She'd never seen him like this. She'd never expected to see him like this. Everything was a great big jumble in her head, and she couldn't separate one thought from another. This day had simply gone from bad to worse, and now it felt as though her whole world was slipping between her fingers like sand. Despite everything he had said and done today the last thing she wanted to do was lose him, yet she felt as though she wasn't going to get much choice in the matter. How had she managed to screw up again?


End file.
